Stagecoaches and gold trains, milestones and hitching posts:  this bus ride is becoming more and more like a chapter from a wild western.

With owner Cedric Trounson at the helm, our West Coast Shuttle winds along State Highway 73 from the spectacularly verdant West Coast of the South Island, up through the 929 metre-high Arthur's Pass and back down to the endless ochre plains of Canterbury. The Great Alpine Highway; a journey that's renowned for its beauty, but is just as enticing for its history.

Although his vehicle serves solely as a service coach, ferrying travellers between the coastal hubs of Christchurch and Greymouth, Cedric has a delightfully obvious passion for the road he travels so often. And he's more than willing to share his knowledge with any inquisitive passengers.

This road was born of gold. The precious commodity was discovered on the rugged West Coast in the early 1860s. In order to better haul their takings from west to east for export, prospectors demanded a road over the high mountain pass that separated the two coasts. In 1864 English-born explorer Arthur Dudley Dobson surveyed the area and discovered the best location for the road, which was formed soon afterwards. The pass was named 'Arthur's Pass' in Dobson's honour.

In rickety stagecoaches across unsealed roads and unbridged rivers the journey took three days. Today it'll take us just four hours.

"Look, there's a milestone," says Cedric, pointing as we whiz past a worn grey marker sprinkled with the confetti of an overhanging beech tree. "You can still see a lot of the original milestones, and even the original road in places," he remarks.

The trick is knowing where to look. You need a sharp eye to find anything in the unending wilderness beyond the bus windows. Dense, dark forests flow down monolithic hills to the road's edge. At times, the open landscape appears: a tangle of inhospitable river beds and clusters of tussock and Spaniard. Come winter, snow casts a sparkling cloak over everything, turning the undulating countryside into a cold, rippling white sheet.

On this autumn morning, there's not a flake to be seen. But recent rainfall is reflected in the lush green hills behind the historic staging post of Jackson's Tavern. Almost the only sign of life in the speck of a town that is Jackson's, the tavern appears unexpectedly on a straight stretch of road on the western side of Arthur's Pass.

The tavern was first built by brothers Michael and Adam Jackson in 1868 as a stop-over for the many stage coaches travelling between coasts. After being wiped out by a flood just one year later, the hotel was soon replaced by another, which also served as the region's post office. In 1910, Harry Jackson - son of Michael - erected the present building, which was eventually dubbed 'Jackson's Tavern' as a nod to the family behind the long-running establishment.

"An original staging post, complete with hitching posts outside," says Cedric as we cruise past the freshly painted premises advertising gourmet pies and whitebait.

Driving through these tiny tumbleweed towns it's hard to imagine the important roles they played in the development of the West Coast. Otira - a ramshackle hamlet with one paint-flaked hotel and a barren, railway track vista - was once a popular resting spot for Maori heading to the lucrative West Coast rivers in search of Pounamu (greenstone). The name 'Otira' is short for 'kua oti te haerenga e te tira', which means 'the journey over the alpine passes is at an end'. Whether for the Maori travelling west on foot, or the later gold miners in their stagecoaches, reaching Otira after the treachery of Arthur's Pass was good news!

By 1900, rail had reached Otira from Hokitika on the West Coast. At this stage, Otira comprised two hotels, a school, two stores, a bakery and the train station as well as a handful of residences. In 1908 construction of the Otira Railway Tunnel beneath Arthur's Pass got underway - an engineering feat that took 15 years to complete. During this time, Otira was home to hundreds of workmen and their families: a far cry from the 66 residents that called Otira home at last count.

In 1999 Otira had another marvel of engineering to add to its name: the Otira Viaduct. Replacing a notoriously precarious 440m section of the road between Otira and Arthur's Pass, the viaduct was completed in less than two years and now snakes its way through the gaping scree-lined Otira Gorge.

So precipitous is the climb through the gorge that the West Coast Shuttle slows to a crawl as we ascend. Amongst the deep green bush of the surrounding hills I spy thin white ribbons: slender waterfalls careering downwards to the gorge below us. A pair of mountain parrots - the famously cheeky kea - soars in lazy circles above the dense native forests.

Cedric's voice snaps me out of my scenic trance: "This stone wall coming up on our left is an original - built by the folk who travelled this area by stagecoach." Obviously the avalanches and rock slides that necessitate the assembly of stone walls along this road aren't a new occurrence.

"You can tell it's original," he explains as we draw closer, "because of the way it's stacked."

Sure enough, as we edge past I see that the carefully chosen wall stones are stacked and stuck in a distinctly different pattern than the newer constructions on either side.

Soon we are over the summit of Arthur's Pass and trundling down to Arthur's Pass Village, 737m above sea level. As a couple of happily worn looking walkers load their backpacks onto the bus, I take a quick glimpse of this tiny tourist destination. Although a priority on many international visitors' to-do list, Arthur's Pass village offers little more than a sprinkling of cafes and accommodation options, a handful of rustic holiday homes and an information centre. Established in 1908 as a construction camp for the Otira tunnel, the settlement's attraction has always been in its surroundings: the lush, sprawling reaches of Arthur's Pass National Park.

Catching the shuttle from Christchurch for day walks and a night or two in the park is a popular option amongst travellers, explains Cedric as we continue onwards. As is flying into Christchurch from Sydney for a long weekend, catching the afternoon shuttle to Greymouth and spending a lazy weekend fishing, sight-seeing and relaxing.

Imagining a high-flying Sydneysider coming to terms with a don't-blink destination like Otira has me chuckling as we follow the endless cow-scattered fields and ruler-straight roads of Canterbury, all the way back to Christchurch.

Amelia is Content Editor for the New Zealand travel and tourism website www.fourcorners.co.nz

She travelled from Christchurch to Greymouth, return, courtesy of West Coast Shuttle. >